


i want the life i never had

by bugselfs



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Dan Howell Is Not A YouTuber, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Parenthood, Penguins, Phil Lester Is Not A YouTuber, Single Parents, Zoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugselfs/pseuds/bugselfs
Summary: “I’m nervous,” she admits. “But it’ll be okay, right?”Dan smiles at her. “Of course it will,” he promises. “And if everyone hates you and you have no friends because your old ones have all left you for the popular kids, you’ll still have me. And Miss Margaret.”“Oh, great,” Sophia says dryly, cutting into her breakfast. “Good to know my only friends will be my geeky dad and the crazy cat lady that lives next door.”“We don’t say crazy, Sophia. She’seccentric.”POV: Your 11 year old daughter wants to see the penguins but you just want to stare at the guy feeding them.
Relationships: Dan Howell & Original Character(s), Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Phil Lester & Original Character(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 66





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> this was one of those things where i was like .... i just Need to write it down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fatherhood is a gift.

Dan is eighteen years old when he starts dating Nia. They sit next to each other on the first day of their Family Law class, and she offers him a stick of gum. He knows, deep down, that he doesn’t like girls very much, if at all, but Nia is really nice and funny even if he’s not actually in love with her. They break up around 6 months in, when she realizes he’ll never be able to look into her eyes and tell her he loves her. It’s sad, sure, but they’re still friends, and it’s mostly okay, until a month later when Nia calls Dan, crying horrendously about a positive pregnancy test she’d just received.

Quickly, almost too quickly, it’s decided: Nia will keep the baby, but Dan will have custody. Nia’s trying to be a lawyer, passionate about her career in a way Dan never was. She wants some weekends, though, and Dan is happy to give her that. Nia will be a great lawyer, but Dan never thought of himself that way; honestly, he’s better off being a dad.

But dads need jobs. They need to provide. Even so, he can’t bear the thought of being a lawyer, spending all his free time taking exams and reading from stingy textbooks, when he could instead be daydreaming of his baby’s first steps, first school dance, first words.

With a bit of financial help from his parents, who were weirdly proud to know that Dan has had sex with at least one woman, he moves into his own two bedroom flat. It’s wonderful; a little cramped, but not so much so that Dan worries about the space his child will have to grow in. They can always move when they grow out of the little dingy place, but until then, it’s perfect.

Dan stays in school, but gets a degree in journalism instead. He works two jobs - a Starbucks on campus, and as a paid intern at the radio station on the weekend - right up until the moment Nia starts her maternity leave. Then, it’s preparation time. He quits his Starbucks job and starts going to Nia’s baby classes with her, all while juggling his studying and internship and dwindling mental health and the impending doom of his sexuality crisis.

Anyways. He makes it out alive. He graduates a semester early, two weeks before Nia has the baby. He’s there for the birth, and is deeply horrified after it, but in the same vein, is steeled with an immeasurable amount of respect for the female sex.

It’s a little girl. She has big brown eyes just like Dan, and the same long, pointed nose, although she takes after her mum in other things, like her lips and skin color, and when she’s older, probably her hair too. Afterwards, when it’s just Nia, Dan, and their little girl in the hospital room together, no overbearing parents or frantic nurses or crying grandparents, Dan slides into the bed next to Nia and they talk to their daughter in hushed voices. She reaches out with her little baby fist and grabs hold of Dan’s index finger, and he’s never felt braver.

“I’m gay,” he whispers. He’s never said it out loud before.

Nia laughs. “I know,” she admits. “I figured it out around the time we broke up. It’s okay, love.”

He huffs, a smile creeping up on his lips. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Can you believe we made that?”

“Hey now,” Nia scolds. “Don’t go taking all the credit.”

“You’re right,” he amends, tone serious but eyes sparkling with laughter. “You did all the work. You’re amazing. Even if I’m not attracted to you.”

“Why, thank you, Danny,” she replies, and pats his thigh with the hand that isn’t stroking their daughter’s leg. “Have you thought about what we should name her? Now that we’re looking at her, it’s just… I feel like nothing is perfect enough for her. You know?”

“I know,” he answers. He does. “I’ve got an idea, but you’re going to laugh at me.” They’d already agreed her middle name would be after Nia’s grandmother, so it was truly about finding a first name that fit the mold.

“If you say something racist, I’ll hit you.”

Dan laughs and says, “I was thinking Sophia or Charlotte. Or both. She was the first black queen of England. I just like the idea of naming her after somebody who was, you know - badass. She worked with Marie Antoinette. She was queen during the American Revolution. I don’t know, it seemed - fitting, I suppose.”

Nia hums after a brief, thoughtful moment. “I actually quite like that,” she tells him, voice laced with sincerity. “Sophia Charlotte Nneoma Howell-Abara. That’s a pretty powerful name.”

“She sounds like she’d be the first black Prime Minister. Or the Secretary-General of the United Nations. Or, I don’t know. Something wonderful.”

“It’s perfect, Dan,” she tells him softly. “You know, if I had to be having a baby with any of my gay ex-boyfriends, I’m glad it’s you.”

“Me too,” he says, smiling down at Sophia Charlotte, thinking of all the adorable nicknames he could give her in the coming years. He wonders if she’ll like ballet, or prefer basketball, or maybe if she’ll want to do both; if she’ll be the type of girl who paints her nails or the type that digs worms out from the backyard garden. He knows, looking into her big, brown, wonderful eyes, that whatever type of person she is, he’ll love her endlessly.


	2. the middle.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> facts about penguins and blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you aren't interested for an in-depth description of penguins , skip the large blocks of dialogue after the second line-break!! that being said.... penguins r cool
> 
> shout out to my beta reader/soulmate alex i love u buddy!!

It turns out, she’s the type of person who’s late to everything all the time.

“Sophia Charlotte Nneoma, if you’re not down here in five minutes, I’m leaving without you!”

“I’m coming, Dad,” she calls back. It’s her first day of the school year and she’s already running late _again_. She takes after her father in that.

Raising her was not easy, of course, being a white gay man with no significant other to help him. Her mum was obviously a wonderful co-parent, but she worked longer hours than Dan, whose job at BBC kept him and Sophia comfortable, so Nia was more of the cool parent who took her shopping and to the cinema on weekends. Dan didn’t resent her though; Nia was a great mum, just as Sophia was a great kid.

Even if Sophia was minutes away from being left behind on her first day of school.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she says as she comes racing around the corner into the kitchen. “I slept in.”

“It’s alright, love,” he says, flipping a blueberry pancake on the stove. “I changed the clocks in the house so you would think you’re running late. You’ve still got fifteen minutes.”

Sophia freezes as Dan beams at her cheekily. “You - _Dad_. That’s mean.”

“It worked, didn’t it? Get yourself a cup of orange juice, you need the vitamin D.” He slips a freshly made - and miraculously, not at all burnt - pancake onto a plate with almost a dozen others. He’s only got enough batter for two or three normal sized pancakes, so obviously, he pours it all into the pan at once to make a jumbo one.

“You’re mean,” Sophia tells him. “Truly awful.”

“I know,” he says cheerily. “Well, Soph, it’s your first day of school. How are you feeling?” He pulls a plate from the cupboard and begins stacking two pancakes onto it, handing it to her along with the syrup and butter.

“I’m nervous,” she admits. “And excited. But it’ll be okay, right?”

Dan smiles at her. “Of course it will,” he promises. “And if everyone suddenly hates you and you have no friends because your old ones have all left you for the popular kids, you’ll still have me. And Miss Margaret.”

“Oh, great,” Sophia says dryly, cutting into her breakfast. “Good to know my only friends will be my geeky dad and the crazy cat lady that lives next door.”

“We don’t say _crazy_ , Sophia. She’s _eccentric_.”

“Not even going to argue the geeky bit?” She grins and bites into her pancake. He rolls his eyes.

“What, like you’re any less geeky? I raised you, child, you’re every bit as geeky as I am.” He flips the jumbo pancake, cheering when it makes it to the other side fully cooked, and Sophia joins in with proud, playful clapping and laughter that Dan wishes he could frame and keep forever.

Half an hour later, they’re parked outside of the school. Dan interrupts the music to announce to her, “I had a thought.”

“Oh, that’s new,” she snarks, and Dan retaliates with a gentle clocking to her head.

“Watch it, you,” he scolds.

“What’s your idea?”

“Let’s go somewhere after I pick you up. We’ll do something fun. You choose. Ice cream, the cinema, whatever you’d like.”

“The zoo!” Sophia says without a moment of hesitation.

“What?” Dan laughs.

“Yes,” she answers. “Please. The zoo. I’d like to see the penguins. And other animals, of course.”

“God, you’re a nerd,” he replies, and unceremoniously shoves her towards the car door, both of them laughing. “Alright then. The zoo. Go on, now. Have a good day.”

“Love you,” she calls before slamming the door shut and racing off to the front steps.

“Love you more,” he says, even though she can’t hear him.

* * *

The afternoon comes along quicker than Dan thought it would. By the time he’s off work and picking Sophia up from school, he’s energized; he even arms himself with Starbucks for the two of them, and though he’d doubted the zoo earlier, he’s excited. He pulls up to her school and parks around the corner from the front, so as not to embarrass her. He knows how mean kids can be.

While Dan waits, he ponders. He remembers when his Sophia Charlotte was born, and how curious he was to get to know her. Now, she’s all grown up - _almost_ . This is her last year of primary school, and Dan’s terrified. Sophia ended up being as anti-sport as Dan was in primary school, and as smart as her mum; in her youth, Dan would read her stories like The Lorax and Horton Hears a Who and Sophia would point out the deeper meanings. It always made him want to slam the book shut, she was so goddamn _smart_.

And now, she’s only getting smarter. She’s in a higher level for math, just because Dan and Nia pestered the principal until he complied. She’s constantly reading; Dan is pretty sure that 40% of his income goes to funding her bookstore addiction. He’s so proud of her, he might just turn into one of those deeply embarrassing dads who wears t-shirts with their kids’ faces on them. 

A knock on the passenger side window startles him from his thoughts.

“Hi, Dad,” Sophia says as she climbs into her seat. “Ooh, Starbucks!”

“Only the best for you, princess,” he replies. “How was school? Tell me everything.”

She begins rambling in the way she always does, talking at the speed of light. Nia always gets so frustrated when Sophia speaks this fast, but not Dan; Sophia got it from him, after all. She goes on about which classes were already getting on her nerves, which of her peers she hopes she’ll never have to interact with, which of her friends she sat with at lunch and who she got along with best. Dan participates, prompting her with questions to steer the conversation into whichever directions he wants it to go. She continues jabbering happily, and Dan loves every second of it, until they arrive at the London Zoo.

“Penguins!” she cheers.

“Yes,” he agrees, smiling. “Are you ready?”

“Born ready,” she retorts.

Dan scoffs, but throws an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in close, guiding her towards the gate of the zoo. He pays for the ticket and smiles at the woman in the booth, and Sophia says thank you at the same time as him. Politeness was always something Dan and Nia wanted to instill in her.

He lets her use his phone to take photos, because he still hasn’t got her one but she certainly can take better pictures than him, and they begin their walk around the zoo while she talks animatedly about all the animals she’s learned about, probably from the weird documentaries she watches on Netflix.

“That’s a Western lowland gorilla!” Sophia exclaims. “Did you know they actually find it rude when we stare at them, because it’s a sign of aggression to them? They’re very standoffish, so they only like to look at people they trust, like each other or zookeepers they know very well.”

“I didn’t know that,” Dan replies. “Did you see that on the telly?”

“I was reading about them at school,” she admits. “During class, I used the computer to look at which animals would be here. I wanted to make the most of our limited afternoon.”

“Very clever,” Dan says, impressed despite the itch to tease her for spending the time she could’ve been messing around on the computer googling information about animals at the zoo. What a nerd. “What can you tell me about those?” He points at a pair of black monkeys with long noses and furrowed brows, almost making them look like a real life Squidward.

“Oh, those are black crested macaques! They’re the monkeys with pink, heart-shaped butts. I read that these ones are from Indonesia and…”

As Sophia drones on and on, Dan hangs on to every word like it’s her last.

They make their way through the blue route, with tigers and reptiles and camels and more. Dan takes a photo of her in front of the bird sanctuary, where her favorite owl was fluttering around: the spectacled owl of Central America. An older couple approaches and offers to take a photo of them together, which Dan happily agrees to, although Sophia is a little embarrassed about it. It’s not every day your pre-teen daughter _wants_ to hang out with you, though, so Dan cherishes every memory he can. The next photo he takes of her is in front of the Lake Oku clawed frogs, which Sophia is unabashedly ecstatic to see. They take a selfie with a Galapagos tortoise named Polly before heading off to the pink route.

“Did you know the Galapagos tortoises can live without food or water for a whole year?”

“Wow,” Dan says. “I wish you were one. I’d spend a lot less money on your pancake addiction.”

“Oh, like you’re any better,” Sophia says before racing off to see the otters.

It could be minutes later, or it could be hours, but soon, Dan and Sophia have accomplished both the blue and pink routes, leaving only the orange route - which Sophia is most excited for - for last. They start with the lions, which Dan is impressed by but not more than Sophia is, with her wide, sparkling eyes and joyful laughter. They see the spiders and bugs next, which Dan is _least_ excited for. Sophia looks at every single one with the same level of interest and excitement as she did for the reptiles and safari animals, which Dan is both jealous of and disgusted by. She even spouts off random facts about spiders until Dan stops her, citing the potential nightmares as his reason.

They make their way in a circle through the route until they march over to the butterfly section, which is an honestly magical experience for both of them; even the ever-cynical Dan. She takes a photo of him where he’s looking up at the expanse of hundreds of butterflies in awe, with his jaw dropped open and head tilted back. He looks really good, actually, and he makes a mental note to post that one on Instagram. They take a selfie in front of the building, underneath the sign, and then he takes one of her with a butterfly in her hands.

The humidity in the building is astonishing and leaves both their hair frizzier than before, but Sophia couldn’t care less. She marches on, pulling Dan excitedly to their last stop: Penguin Beach.

“These are Humboldt penguins,” Sophia explains, and Dan listens diligently. They’re walking hand in hand, though Sophia is skipping a bit to keep up with Dan’s long gait. “They’re really close to the equator, which means they like cold water but they don’t usually like snow.”

“That’s cool,” Dan replies. “Tell me more,” he pushes.

“Well… you know how they say penguins mate for life?” Sophia asks as they approach.

“Yeah, they’re like one of the only species that do, right?”

“Sort of,” she answers. “They actually cheat on each other. Almost a third of female Humboldt penguins have affairs with other penguins and most of them are actually also females.”

Dan freezes and whips his head to look at his daughter. “Are you being serious?”

She laughs. “Yes,” she insists. “It’s true. Someone did a study on it, for some reason.”

“How on earth do you even know what an affair is?”

“I’m _ten_ , Dad, not an infant,” she scoffs and shakes her head.

“Wrong, but okay, introduce me to your gay penguins,” he says, and she laughs. Behind them, someone clears their throat. Dan spins around to see a tall man, almost as tall as him, with pale skin and big blue eyes. Dan falters at first, but upon noticing the rainbow heart next to the man’s name tag - Phil, it says - he realizes what he had said.

“Oh, I didn’t mean gay like, _homophobic_ gay,” he rushes out. “She said - she said they have affairs with - with girls. The girl penguins. Like, gay sex.” Dan spins to look at Sophia, who has begun giggling uncontrollably. “Oh my god, Sophia Charlotte Nneoma Howell, do _not_ tell your mum I just talked about sex in front of you.” He turns back around to see Phil, who is now smiling a little. “And I’m gay! I forgot - I’m - I’m gay. I’m not homophobic, I promise and I’m sorry. And now I’m just rambling so I look like an idiot.”

Phil laughs. “I didn’t mean to listen in,” he says. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, it’s none of my business.”

“No, no, I sounded like one of those asshole dads who calls their kids’ interests _gay_ and drinks too much beer. I’m not one of those dads.”

“He doesn’t even like beer,” Sophia pipes up.

“Sophia, love, go look at your penguins,” he orders. She rolls her eyes, but skips happily away anyway, off to see the Humboldt penguins that she’s been talking about all day.

“Your daughter’s precious,” Phil says, a blush creeping over his high cheekbones. “Is she a big penguin fan?”

“Oh, she’s a big fan of everything at the zoo, but she was _most_ excited for the penguins. I can’t believe she read that they have _affairs_. What a geek,” he muses.

Phil laughs. “Actually, Humboldt penguins are pretty modest when it comes to sex. The Adélie penguins are known for their necrophilia. And prostitution rings.”

Dan blinks at him. “What?”

“I’m serious!” Phil squawks, blushing beet red, and Dan almost howls from laughter. “The males freeze the dead bodies of their significant others to have sex with. And the females will have sex with lonely males and take pebbles as payment.”

“Why do you know that?” Dan pleads, smiling so wide his cheeks have started to hurt. Phil is smiling back at him with the same width.

“I don’t know,” Phil admits. “I just like knowing stuff.”

“You and Sophia would get on well,” Dan replies. “She likes watching the National Geographic channel. Like a grandmother. She’s _ten_.”

“Oh, I love National Geographic,” Phil says, eyes looking starry and bright. “I watched this one about sharks the other day, it was wonderful.”

Before Dan can reply, Sophia’s voice interrupts through their conversation. “Dad, stop flirting, I want you to see the penguins,” she whines and tugs on his sleeve.

Dan stumbles, apparently at a loss for words. He looks up at Phil, expecting the man to look equally ashamed, but Phil is just laughing at them. “I’ll let you two have your fun,” he says, and begins to walk away.

“Wait,” Dan says, but he hadn’t thought it through. Phil turns expectantly, quirking a brow, and Sophia does the same. “Uh - why don’t you come with us? And show us around a bit?”

“Oh,” Phil replies. He blinks at Dan, like he hadn’t expected that. “I would, but I actually… well, I’m doing the penguin show in a few minutes. I was just getting a snack.” He holds up a granola bar, presumably from the vending machine against the wall.

“Oh,” Dan says dumbly. He dodges Sophia’s elbow that comes flying at his hip. “No worries.”

Instead of responding to Dan, Phil crouches to Sophia’s level. “It’s Sophia, right?” Phil asks and sticks out his hand to shake.

“Sophia Charlotte. But only my mum calls me that. And Dad when I’m in trouble. Everyone else calls me Sophia.” She shakes his hand proudly and Phil grins.

“Well, I’m Phillip, but you can call me Phil. Your dad says you really like penguins. Did you want to watch the show? I bet I could get you some front row seats.”

“Really?” Sophia asks excitedly, bouncing on her feet. “What kind of show is it?”

“Well, me and my friends are going to feed the penguins and talk about them. You might learn something, or you could just say hi to them while they’re swimming.”

“Okay,” Sophia agrees before looking behind her at Dan. “Dad, can we?”

“Of course, love,” Dan says, resting his hand on her forehead. “Can you say thank you to Phil?”

“Thank you Phil!” Sophia said, jumping into his arms. He laughs and reciprocates the hug and Dan is tempted to photograph this moment.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure, Sophia,” he replies and pulls away from the hug. He stands, wipes his palms on his black jeans, and holds out one of his hands for Sophia to grab. “On our way, why don’t you tell me about what else you’ve seen today?”

Dan is two steps behind them, but without faltering as she rambles, Sophia holds up her hand for Dan. He chuckles silently and slips his hand into her grip, so she’s sandwiched in between him and Phil. She swings their hands while she walks and Dan thinks back to when he was little, holding hands with his mum and dad, and they swing him into the air while they walked. He holds onto Sophia’s hand a little tighter.

* * *

“Hi everybody, and welcome to Penguin Beach ZSL London!” Phil’s cheery voice rang out over the speaker, only a couple meters away from where Sophia and Dan sat. “I’m Phil, and I’m here with Chris, PJ, and Louise, and about 93 Humboldt penguins. It is lunch time for them, so I’m going to be telling you a little about our bird friends.

“As I said earlier, we’re here with some Humboldt penguins, but they are just one of about twenty very diverse penguin species. They can range quite a bit in height, for example the enormous four foot tall Emperor penguin, so very human-sized, or the very teensy, very adorable, little blue penguin and they’re about a foot tall. They’re also called a fairy penguin because they are so cute and tiny. Humboldt penguins are kind of right in between there, as they’re around two feet tall. Something else that’s very diverse about penguins is their habitat. So, you might imagine a winter wonderland, with polar bears and ice and pristine white snow, but actually, these penguins are from Peru and Chile so they like cold water and rocky shorelines. Not at all the tundra you’re thinking of.

“Now something that penguins typically have in common is their diet. So, if you all wouldn’t mind, I’m going to count down from three, and once I say one, I want you all to shout out as loud as you possibly can what you think Humboldt penguins eat. Okay? Three, two, one…”

“Fish!” Sophia cheers, just as loud as the rest of the crowd.

“Yes!” Phil responds with the same excitement as all the adorning children around him. “That’s exactly right! You lot are all just geniuses, aren’t you? That’s fantastic. Well, anyway, fish only makes up about 80% of their diet, in fact, they also like squid, crustaceans, and krill, which is a very teensy kind of shrimp. But, yes, fish is their favorite food. So since I’ve got my friend PJ right here, he’s going to tell us a little about what they eat. So, PJ, what are feeding them right now?”

“Sprat,” PJ answers.

“Lovely,” Phil says, and he genuinely sounds like he means it. “And how much would you say they eat in one day?”

“About thirty each,” he replies. “Which means, since there are 93 of them, we go through almost three thousand fish a day.”

“That is fantastic, PJ, thank you.” Unsurprisingly, Phil’s smile is thoroughly distracting Dan from the penguins. “So, PJ is feeding some of our penguins up here, but Louise and Chris are lining the deep end with fish as well, and that is to promote their typical feeding habits by having them dive for their food. Speaking of diving, they are great divers, and can go upwards of a hundred meters underwater, and they’ve developed really keen eyesight so they can see quite well underwater where it is dark and murky and cold. Besides diving and seeing really well, they can hold their breaths for about ten minutes at a time, not as long as other penguins, but they also have two layers of feathers. Now, that outer layer acts as a wetsuit, so they swim really fast and dive easier, and the inner layer is like a big, furry blanket to keep them warm. So it’d be like if you went to the beach and underneath your swimming costume you were wearing a jumper, so that is why they like cold water; because they’ve adapted to it already, they’d be way too hot if they went anywhere warmer.”

Dan’s been really good at paying attention so far, he has. He’s taken in just about every word Phil’s said, even if, in the long run, penguins mean nothing to him anymore than every other bird. Which is just enough to care about climate change and habitat destruction and conservation status, but not enough to go on a trip to Antarctica - or Peru in this case - and hug a bunch of penguins. That all being said, Dan can’t help but zone out just a bit; Phil has been talking for five long minutes now, and while Dan really wants to care about what he’s _saying_ , it’s just so hard, what with his low voice full of expression, or the way he walks along the platform with confidence and excitement, or how he beams at every kid in the audience as bright as he had at Sophia. Phil is beautiful - pretty, even - and Dan can’t help but be wildly distracted. He doesn’t give enough of a shit about penguin predators, which is the new topic of Phil’s monologue, to look away from his crooked nose and shiny black hair.

Five more minutes pass before Phil starts his finale with a spiel about saving penguins and lowering plastic consumption and production, and the whole while, Dan is diligently studying this man’s - this stranger’s, really - features. Phil’s nose is hooked high up on the bridge, but is straight and narrow in the way that if you looked at him head on, you would never notice. His eyes, in this lighting, are more green than they had been in the shade earlier, which Dan finds equally mesmerizing and exciting. He’s tall and long-limbed, but his hands aren’t abnormally large like Dan’s, and when he laughs he holds his tongue in his molars and sticks it out his mouth. Dan, embarrassingly enough, is enamored by this tall, pale, dark haired man, but he can’t find the time to be ashamed of it. Especially not when every minute for the past ten minutes, he looks over and smiles at Dan. He knows he’s staring, and he knows Phil knows it too, and he doesn’t give half a shit.

Finally, _finally,_ Phil begins his goodbyes. “I hope you all enjoyed listening to me ramble about penguins as much as I enjoyed doing the rambling, and I hope you learned something new. Again, my name is Phil and I’m going to be in the arena for a few minutes longer, so if you have any questions about anything at all, I’ll be here! Thank you all very much, and have a wonderful rest of your day at ZSL London Zoo.”

Dan watches as Phil switches the microphone off with his thumb and visibly slumps, like the energy has been sucked out of him. As an introvert, Dan knows that feeling, so he’s hesitant to approach the man, and pauses as a gaggle of children make their way towards them. He’s patient with them, crouching down as he did with Sophia to answer all their questions until their mothers apologize and pull them away. All the while, Sophia speaks a mile a minute, talking about her favorite parts and repeating the facts Dan’s already heard Phil say, although he’s happy to engage her. Just then, Phil rises, and makes eye contact with Dan - who’s been unabashedly staring - and grins so bright Dan thinks he’s the sun.

“Hi,” Phil says, barreling down the steps of the stage and up to Dan and Sophia.

“Hi,” Dan answers and stands.

“Hi,” Sophia interrupts in a sing-song voice, jumping to stand in between them. “Phil, I really really _really_ liked your presentation.”

“That’s wonderful, Sophia!” he applauds, genuinely ecstatic. “Did you learn anything new?”

“I did!” she says, bouncing on her toes. “I’ve never heard of the fairy penguins! Are they cute?”

“They’re the cutest,” Phil insists seriously. From the far side of the pool, another one of the birdkeepers - Dan thinks her name is Louise - scuttles up beside Phil. “Louise!” he cheers. “This is Dan and Sophia.”

“Oh, hello!” Louise says brightly. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“You too,” Dan says, and offers his hand to shake.

“Are you a friend of Phil’s?” Louise asks.

“Um,” Dan replies dumbly. “Sort of.”

“We’ve just met,” Phil explains. “Sophia is a big fan of penguins.”

“Ooh!” Louise says cheerfully. “Sophia, would you like to meet some?”

“Yes!” she yelps. “Yes, yes, yes! Yes please!”

“Is it alright with your dad?”

“Yes,” Sophia says without asking. “I mean-” she whirls around to look at him- “yes?”

“Alright, you geek,” Dan teases. “Here, take some pictures for your grandmother, please.”

She rips the phone out of his hand with practiced ease and skips off, holding out her hand for Louise as she’s been taught to do by her parents. Louise takes it with a smile and pulls Sophia along towards the penguin pool, and Dan watches happily.

“You’re a good dad,” Phil says, breaking the silence. “My parents loved me but they never would’ve let me have so much fun at the zoo. They were so old and boring.”

“Oh, she’s an only child and I’m a teen mum,” Dan says smoothly. “Well, her mum’s a teen mum. Obviously. We - erm, we were 19.”

“Wow,” Phil answers, beginning to walk before gesturing towards Dan. “How’s a coffee sound? I’ll have Louise text me when they’re done, if you’d like.”

“Oh,” Dan says, mulling it over. “I don’t want Sophia to get kidnapped.”

“Of course not,” Phil answers. “The cafe is right around the corner. We can just come right back and drink them here. But no pressure! Of course. I didn’t mean to… well, I just meant-”

“It’s fine,” Dan rushes. “I was joking. She has my phone, if she gets kidnapped then it’s on her.”

Phil laughs. “Putting your daughter’s life in the hands of your mobile,” he muses. “I appreciate that in a man.”

“Well, you said I was a good dad. I just like proving people wrong.”

Phil shakes his head. “You are a good dad,” he insists, smiling despite the seriousness in his voice. “At least you seem like it. I heard how she was talking earlier; she sounded so excited and you encouraged it. That’s really special.”

They walk in sync, which is something Dan’s weak heart appreciates. Most of the time, he slows down for other people, but him and Phil are about the same height, so walking is… easy. Natural. It’s almost like they were made to walk alongside each other.

“And she’s very sweet,” he continues before Dan can even reply. “So smart and polite. You’ve done a wonderful job, I think.”

“Well, I certainly can’t take all the credit,” Dan remarks. “Her mum is a fancy lawyer. That’s why she’s so smart, really. I just gave her my superior taste in music.”

“And your eyes,” Phil says, before he immediately blushes.

“Oh,” he says dumbly. “Um.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil apologizes. “I didn’t mean to…”

“No!” Dan yelps, prompting a few passersby to turn their heads. He clears his throat. “No,” he repeats, quietly this time. “You’re fine. I… Yeah. It’s okay. It’s good.”

“Okay,” Phil laughs. “Well, in that case, I hope you know I’m asking you to coffee for real, right now.”

“Oh,” Dan says again, and now he’s blushing. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Phil look over at him, so he ducks his head to stare at his shoes.

“You have dimples,” Phil says, voice laced with awe. It’s not a question or a statement, but he’s saying it out loud like it’s a revelation he’s making a note of.

“Yeah,” Dan says sheepishly. “I passed those to Sophia as well.”

“They’re pretty,” he replies.

Dan sucks in a breath and tilts his head up to the sky. “You’re making this very hard for me,” he says quietly. “I - I try not to date. I don’t like the idea of Sophia getting attached to someone who won’t stay very long.”

“How do you know I won’t stay?”

Dan blinks as they near the cafe. “Well, I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess I’d always been too afraid to risk it.”

“But…?” Phil prompts.

“But you’ve met her already,” he explains. “And it’s not scaring you.”

Phil looks at him and freezes, so Dan stops walking. “No,” he says after a moment. “It’s not scaring me at all.”

Dan nods slowly, studying Phil’s features. “My taste in coffee might scare you away, though,” he says in an attempt to break the ice.

“No,” Phil promises with a smile, putting a hand on Dan’s elbow and urging him towards the counter. “It won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know the penguin bit was overwhelming but i really liked learning about them and i watched the actual zsl london penguin beach show so i couldn't remove it im SORRY arent penguins so cool???? if u were bored just imagine it in phil's voice so u could see urself in dan's shoes: bored as shit but hey, its phil!
> 
> this was way longer than i intended and the third chapter (which is in the works right now!) is looking to be the same way! if u felt like any of this was ooc or whatever, so did i <3


	3. interlude

hey guys! this is not an update. sorry for playing with your feelings if you expected it to be.

i know that fanfiction is supposed to be a safe place, away from the horrible reality that we live in. i know. you can skip this chapter if you want. i can't stop you. and while i don't have much of a platform on ao3 - i'm by no means a popular author, but my fics do moderately well - i do know someone, somewhere, is going to read this. and hopefully, i can educate you on something i really, really care about in the aftermath of something that really pissed me off.

so _somebody_ posted some shady shit today and i wanna take this as an opportunity to remind **non-black people** of some key things.

1\. Black lives matter. always. unconditionally. in every city, state, country, you live in. in every language you speak. in every circumstance. **Black lives matter.**

2\. believing that Black lives matter doesn't mean shit if you're not having all the provocative conversations you can have. i'm not saying pick a fight with your abusive parents, obviously, but every day you should take every opportunity possible to educate someone. tweet something. post on instagram. have a tough conversation with someone that said something hurtful. i know it's hard to sit your mom down and tell her it's fucked up when she says blue lives matter, but imagine how the world feels for Black people. 

3\. educate yourself. the movement is not over until Black people are safe. sign a petition, go to a protest, donate to a gofundme, do something, anything. 

* * *

if you're like me, youtube is your favorite resource for education. here are some great informative and helpful videos.

_**LAST WEEK TONIGHT WITH JOHN OLIVER** _

**Ferguson, MO, and Police Militarization** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUdHIatS36A>

**Police Accountability** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zaD84DTGULo>

**Police** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wf4cea5oObY>

_**JADA JONES** _

**want to be educated? this is the video for you...** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKGkXoF60Ik>

**_THE DAILY SHOW WITH TREVOR NOAH_ **

**America Protests Police Brutality and Systemic Racism** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YknhztcrURY>

_**PATRIOT ACT WITH HASAN** _ **MINHAJ**

 **We Cannot Stay Silent About George Floyd** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_FE78X-qdY>

_**TEDX TALKS** _

**Eliminating Microaggressions: The Next Level of Inclusion (Tiffany Alvoid)** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPqVit6TJjw>

**50 years of racism - why silence isn't the answer (James A. White Sr.)** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r9DDE7NV1Nw>

_**ROB BLISS** _

**Holding A Black Lives Matter Sign in America's Most Racist Town** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltmlvk9GAto>

and in my opinion, the most heart wrenching one:

_**GREAT BIG STORY** _

**Black Lives Matter Protests Around the World** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Vl4I0weXPU>

* * *

hopefully that moved you. if it didn't, i have nothing to say to you. if it did, here are some ways you can help.

<https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/>

> <https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#petitions>
> 
> <https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#donate>
> 
> <https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#text>

[https://blacklivesmatter.com/resources/](https://blacklivesmatter.com/resources/?__cf_chl_jschl_tk__=a1ac1fa6f7f8b0a72a857a03f3b8105739500096-1599100124-0-AZTNFo8Cfx0fa3opjRHvoVtq4jxSoPuD_ADm5PUPui_-dUNRaSRV0zEdUs3Htyia-cTVITPP_CGmJaxRqn3TJnOaPUe8o2-L6jO406RTGIKG5CzXCn9WjEVXn1o_iz_93rMGLMXz2__VRpC0G7DfJiJHRILzQF3oUk2x3RkjWSV66NUnzfZ3bWJzMxyhh9E5R2IuQbPFWB2wI5mGP4YMcY8u4FDAWxTejgAYiUICsahlo5OcgAMYw91nOoZpz6to4Cv7eh_nfVehfzdhZKiG0AzF8sIXcY0UKETdaU-LstacqHmA4qIvJd1VFS_-7C6kRXtwiOVnOx6OFWwZh7JAtaMr-kMDv3DAknireXggns_5)

<https://www.manrepeller.com/2020/06/black-lives-matter-resources.html>

<https://docs.google.com/document/u/1/d/1yxj0kSC2-LzINUlfNMEV_Qi-7ZtWCTLSua3Z-9XFNqA/mobilebasic>

* * *

and here are the names you cannot forget.

<https://sayevery.name/>

* * *

the world is a big scary place, but it's even scarier when you're at risk of being murdered with no justice for the color of your skin. now is not the time to stay silent. if you are not Black, you are obligated to stand up for the Black community. your whiteness could save somebody's life.

> When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would always say to me, _Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping._
> 
> \- Fred Rogers

now is the time for you to be a helper.

change starts with us.


	4. the end (five years later).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> forever is a prime number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta, what am i, a pussy?
> 
> for context/if you're confused, sophia is 15 in this one, dan is 33, and phil is 37. that doesnt matter in particular but it's nice to know i think!

> **three. early november.**

“Dad! Phil!” Sophia calls, her voice ringing through the flat.

Dan whines in his sleep and flips over from his spot on the couch, burying his face into the exposed skin of Phil’s neck beside him. He’d been taking a cat nap against Phil’s side, so rather than waking him, Phil laughs and responds, “Yes, love?”

Sophia appears behind them, leaning against the couch and bracing herself with crossed arms on the headrest. “Can I go to the movies with Sarai and Amy?”

“Hmm…” Phil hums, tapping his chin as if he doesn’t already know his answer. “Have you done your homework?”

“Yes.”

“Cleaned your room?”

“Also yes.”

“Chores?”

“Still yes.”

“When were you going to go?” he asks, shuffling Dan off his side and moving to his wallet on the television stand.

“Sarai’s mum is picking us up in half an hour, if that’s alright,” she answers with a grin.

“Feed Norman before you go. And bring a jacket,” he orders. “It’s cold. Do you need any money, C-Dog?”

“Only for snacks,” she says. “And my coat’s by the door.”

He hands her a few bills, enough for popcorn and soda, and says, “Unless one of the girls is going to romantically offer you hers, don’t forget yours.”

“Okay!” she cheers happily. “Thank you, P-Dog. You’re the best.”

“I know,” he agrees. “Will you be home for dinner?”

“If  _ you’re _ cooking, yes,” she answers. “But I don’t want burnt pasta again.”

“I can only make three things,” Dan groans from the couch. “But that’s three more things than you, Sophia Charlotte.”

“You spoiled me,” she teases. “I’m gonna go get ready.” She turns and clambers down the stairs to her basement-level room.

“Did you give her money?” Dan asks, still noticeably groggy and more so now that Sophia is gone.

“Yeah,” Phil answers, sitting back down beside Dan. “For snacks.”

“You’re sweet,” he whispers and, with a firm hand on Phil’s cheek, pulls him in for a kiss.

Just as Phil lifts his hand to wrap around the back of Dan’s neck, Sophia’s garbled and high pitched voice interrupts them. “Ew!” she screeches and covers her eyes.

“Why are you back?” Dan scolds. “We’re busy.”

“Ew,” she repeats. “I forgot my phone.” She gestures to the face-down device, the flowers on the back catching the sunlight from the window. “Stop being gross.”

“Sorry, So-Latte,” Phil says, blushing.

“I’m not,” Dan retorts affronted. “If I’ve had to walk in on her kissing that greasy stoner boy, she can deal with me kissing my boyfriend.”

“Your  _ boyfriend _ ,” she coos teasingly. “Okay, kids, have your fun.”

“You’ve raised a very snarky child,” Phil comments. “I miss when she was so well-mannered and polite and just liked hanging out at home. Now she goes out on dates and abandons us for her friends.”

“I’m coming home for dinner,” she reminds him. “Don’t be a baby.”

“Go,” Phil cries, falling back with his hand over his forehead like a Shakespearean maiden. “Go, my love, for I cannot bear the thought of your sorrow. I love you too well to be the cause of your misery.”

“Which obscure piece of fiction is Phil referencing today?” Sophia stared blankly at him while she monotonously sang the Jeopardy theme song.

“What is  _ Cinderella _ ?” Dan offers.

“Wrong, but close,” Phil replies. “ _ Beauty and the Beast _ . Sophia, go get ready so you don’t make us look bad in front of Sarai’s mum.”

“I’m going to be back in, like, ten minutes, so keep the making out short and PG-13.”

“It’ll be R18 if you’re even a moment late,” Dan calls as she scuttles away.

“You are so mean to her,” Phil teases, letting Dan clamber back into his space. As much as he wants to force the distance between them, afraid of Sophia rounding the corner back into the living room, there’s a pull in his chest that urges him to look into Dan’s warm, inviting eyes that he just can’t say no to.

* * *

When Sophia comes home that evening, Phil is trying to show Dan how to cook pasta in the aftermath of last week’s incident. She sits down at the table while they cook and tells them about her day and the movie they watched, some shitty horror movie that apparently made Sarai piss herself from fear and consequently Amy, who couldn’t stop laughing about it. Sophia has laughter-tears in her eyes while she tells this story, and it makes Dan and Phil laugh too, though Dan more so; Phil is focusing on dinner, of course, since somebody has to.

“So, what did you guys do while I was gone?” Sophia asks conversationally, wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes, still breathless from giggling.

Phil pauses, but doesn’t dare look to see Dan’s reaction. He thinks back to forty minutes ago in the shower, or an hour ago in their bed, or the makeout session Sophia’s presence interrupted only a few minutes prior. Dan fills in the silence to say, “Food Wars, like always,” and Phil is eternally grateful. It’s not even really a  _ lie, _ since at some point in their afternoon it was theoretically on the television. Whether or not they paid any attention is a different story.

“Cool,” Sophia replies, snatching a cucumber from the salad in front of Dan. “Lame, but cool.”

“Danny, when can we send her off to her mum’s?” Phil teases as he pulls the pasta off the stove and drains it in the sink.

“You love me, Phil,” she huffs, the grin on her face masking the tone in her voice. Every time Phil watches her smile and laugh, he sees Dan in her: her dimple, the way she scrunches her eyes up and often throws her body forward into her own amusement like she just can’t sit still.

He slinks past her, moving swiftly as he carries the now drained pasta to the table, where the sauce and drinks are waiting for them. He sets it down and pulls her by her shoulders to drop a firm and tender kiss on her head. “That I do, Sophia Charlotte,” he replies and smoothes down the hair he crinkled in his grasp. “Go wash your hands, love.”

As she scampers away, Dan places the salad on the table beside the pasta and turns to wrap his arms around Phil’s waist. “You know it’s been five years since we met,” he says.

“I do know, actually. I can count,” Phil replies, though he doesn’t hesitate to lift his hand to Dan’s cheek and lean into the warmth of his hold.

“I just think it’s strange,” he continues, unbothered by Phil’s snark. “You and her have never really… I don’t know. You’ve always got along. I just don’t know why you don’t let her call you dad.”

“What?” Phil jerks away in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

Dan opens his mouth to reply, but pauses when they hear the sink sharply shut off, so rather than continuing, Dan presses a kiss to Phil’s cheek. “Did you want ribena, bub?”

“Uh,” Phil replies, still reeling and confused. “Um, sure. Yeah.”

* * *

That night, in the comfort of his and Dan’s shared bed, he stares blankly at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Normally, the sound of Dan’s little snores beside him would work like a white noise machine, lulling him to a dreamless sleep, but tonight, it’s like records scratching in his ear. After dinner, Sophia and Dan went for their Saturday walk, a tradition the two of them have had since she was a baby. It’s something Phil is happy to let them have, and it always gives him a chance to get whatever alone time he, ever the introvert, craves. It’s usually a good time for all parties involved, and he’s sure the two of them enjoyed themselves, but he just can’t get Dan’s words out of his head.  _ You don’t let her call you dad. _

He’s certainly never asked Sophia to call him dad. He doesn’t feel that’s his place. She can choose who she considers her dad, and he respects that. But he can’t think of a reason she would think he wouldn’t want her to call him it, but more than that, he can’t think of a time she even expressed a desire to do so. Which is why Phil, what with his anxiety-driven brain, finds himself itching to escape; what’s usually a comforting warmth against his skin is leaving him in a cool sweat, and his hair is brushing against his forehead in a perfectly wrong way, and he can’t stop twitching and squirming and thinking.

Blearily, he pulls himself out of bed. When he turns his head to check the time, it’s almost one in the morning. He’s working the next afternoon, and he knows he  _ needs _ sleep, but the incessant chattering in the back of his mind won’t let him. He manages to grab his glasses from the bedside table and stumbles down the hall, through the kitchen, and out to the balcony where he feeds the pigeons every morning. He flops onto the outdoor couch and stares up at the moon, barely visible with the London night smog. He blinks hysterically and tries desperately not to cry.

Some nights, he’s just anxious. Dan has grey days too, though they usually start up in the morning sun and he always fights them off until Sophia is out of the house, whereas Phil’s bad nights happen sporadically and never earlier than sundown. Dan knows a little about them, but Phil tries to keep him in the dark as much as possible, so he doesn’t know the extent of the bad nights; how, when it’s really awful, he’ll sit on the balcony until sunrise, and then slinks back into bed and pretends to wake up with Dan. Or how often he creeps away to go on runs in the middle of the night, when he’s not so much anxious as he is restless, and how he’s befriended all the night shift employees at the 24-hour cafe down the road. Phil likes to let Dan think that he’s normal, that vulnerability doesn’t scare the shit out of him, that he’s not terrified of change and growth and time.

So he sits in silence and stares at the moon.

Phil supposes, in the silence, that he hasn’t ever led on to Sophia whether or not he  _ wants _ to be called dad. He never thought it was his place. He kind of assumed she would know he’d like that, with him being a permanent fixture in her life since eighteen months into his and Dan’s relationship. It’s the same way he doesn’t often say  _ I love you _ to Dan, as much as he does love him - and he really, truly does - because it’s just not something he’s used to verbalizing. Phil is comfortable with only ever really saying it as it applies to the conversation, like if Dan says it first or it’s a part of a bit between them, because he’s always just figured it was obvious; like, obviously he loves Dan. Why else would he stick around so long, with no promise of wealth or fame or anything else so shallow? They live in a tiny London apartment, with Phil’s zoo salary and Dan on the radio and a teenager causing ruckus in their home. Obviously, Phil thinks, he loves it. Why else would he stay?

But then again, the mind works in mysterious ways. Phil’s the first man Dan’s ever seriously been with. Maybe Sophia thinks it’s not a forever thing; that Phil will get tired of the way Dan runs late for everything or laughs too loud or makes him catch the spiders, and Dan won’t put up with the cupboards left open and the stolen cereal any longer. Phil doesn’t know why she’s never called him dad. He just always figured she didn’t want to. She already had one dad. She didn’t need another.

“You promised you’d wake me up,” Dan’s groggy voice comes echoing from behind Phil.

Phil doesn’t move. There’s an ache in his chest that tells him not to. He doesn’t even avert his eyes from their spot on the moon, but he does say, “I know. I’m sorry.” Now’s not the time to tell Dan about all the other nights Phil didn’t wake him, but those nights stand four feet tall and weigh a hundred kilos on his shoulders.

After a long moment of silence, Dan sits next to Phil and pulls his feet onto his lap, wrapping his large hands around Phil’s thin ankles. “You know, I used to get a lot of shit in school.” Phil hums, because he does know, but he wants Dan to keep going. “Sophia doesn’t get bullied, really. Even though she’s, like, perfect for stupid white boys with shitty dads and mean older brothers to pick on. She’s black, and tall, and dorky. She’s got gay dads.” They let the words simmer over them for a minute, and Phil clenches his eyes shut.  _ I’m not her dad, _ he thinks. _ She doesn’t want me to be. _

“I know her life isn’t perfect, obviously,” Dan continues. “That shit with John and Margaret last year was awful. And teenage girls will always be shady in a way I’ll never understand. But she doesn’t get stuffed in lockers like I did, or beat up for looking at somebody wrong. Sometimes I’m jealous of it.”

“Me too,” Phil quietly admits. He didn’t get bullied as badly as Dan had, not by a long shot, but he walked around on eggshells from the age of twelve until he was outed to his hometown and he wishes he didn’t have to go through those years of fear and loneliness.

“But I didn’t have the best parents, either,” Dan says. “They weren’t very nice to me. We weren’t close. I always vowed I wouldn’t be the type of dad who stuck his kid in front of the TV and let it do my job. I mean, my accent  _ literally _ came from Winnie the Pooh, not my mum and dad.” He thumbs at Phil’s bony ankle, his calloused fingertip brushing over Phil’s skin in a tender way that leaves goosebumps.

“You’re not like that at all,” Phil says, eyes now open and focused back on the moon.

“I know,” Dan agrees. “And you’re not either.”

Phil sucks in a breath. “I don’t think she wants to call me dad,” he admits shamefully, voice breaking and quiet. The hands he’d kept at his side now move up to his chest, resting over his heartbeat, which is erratic and tight.

“She does,” Dan insists. “She calls you dad to her friends. She’ll say  _ my dads _ when she talks about the two of us. Once, I heard her telling a story and I thought it was about me but I realized it couldn’t be because I hadn’t taken her Christmas shopping last year and fell down the stairs.” Phil huffs out a laugh despite his teary eyes. “Nia said at her flat, Soph calls you that too. Like, exclusively. And I always thought you didn’t want her to call you that, which is fine, but now I’m wondering… maybe she just doesn’t know you do.”

“I do want that,” Phil says, the admission full of guilt and love all at once. “I mean, of course I do. I love her. I love you. You two are - you’re my family. In my head, she’s my kid too. But she’s yours and Nia’s first, and I don’t want to claim a position I have no right to. She’s always called me Phil, and I’ve always respected that.”

“I love you,” Dan replies. “She loves you too. Maybe you two should talk about it sometime. I’m leaving for work before you tomorrow. If you’re ready for that.”

Phil can feel Dan’s eyes on him, so he nods slowly. The chattering in his head is a little quieter now. “You should sleep,” he says, avoiding any answer.

“I will when you do,” Dan responds, and Phil could cry. “I don’t like going to bed without you.”

Abruptly, Phil sits up. Dan is already looking at him intently, though Phil can see his eyebrows raise and eyes widen. He pulls his feet out of Dan’s lap - he’s not flexible enough to keep them there - and lifts his hand to grab Dan’s cheek, pulling him in for a warm kiss that says everything Phil can’t manage to out loud. Dan smiles into it and Phil can feel himself carve his fingers into the hollow dimple on Dan’s cheek, and Phil really could  _ cry _ with how tender it all seems to be. He’s feeling brave too, so he drags himself away to look into Dan’s eyes that are sparkling in the moonlight and says, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Dan blinks, and then he smiles again. “Me too,” he replies, maybe a little breathless, and then pulls Phil back in with a firm hand on the back of his head. Phil’s head is entirely quiet now, the buzzing and burning and blabbering of his anxious mind long gone, settled by the warmth of Dan’s lips and hands against him. He could fall asleep right here if he wanted to, but instead he wants to keep pressing on into Dan’s hold and drown himself in their kiss and he swears, in that moment, that he’ll never pull away from Dan, even if it means he’ll suffocate.

When Dan pulls away, chest heaving with breathlessness and eyes unfocused and glazed over, Phil is finally satisfied. Now, they can go to bed; now, Phil can fall asleep.

* * *

Phil wakes to a violent kick to his shin.

“Ow,” he whines, eyes still lax and shut, and he hears Dan’s laughter fluttering around the room.

“Sorry,” Dan whispers, though he doesn’t sound like he feels all that bad. Phil forces his eyes open and props himself up on his elbow to watch appreciatively at Dan’s blurry figure as he gets dressed. “Stop staring at me,” Dan scolds without even confirming Phil’s watching eyes. Phil’s just predictable, he supposes.

“I like looking at you,” Phil says, even though he’s practically blind without his glasses. Dan glares at him while he slides on a pair of black ripped jeans that fit him perfectly. “You’re so hot,” he sighs.

Dan laughs at him, shaking his head. He moves towards the bed and presses a kiss to Phil’s forehead, brushing his hair out of his face tenderly. “You’re an idiot,” he replies. That’s Dan-speak for  _ thank you, I love you. _

When Dan pulls away to tug on a shirt and Phil flops over to face the bedside table, blindly fumbling for his glasses and phone. He squints at the brightness and immediately turns it down before checking the time: 8:32 AM.

“It’s too early,” Phil huffs, dropping his phone onto the carpeted floor and throwing himself back under the covers.

“Work,” Dan says, answering an unasked question. “Sophia’s up already. I think she’s watching Shark Week again.” She’s a morning person, unlike either of them; it’s Nia’s doing.

“She has taste,” Phil retorts, eyes firmly shut. Then, he sighs, and heaves himself out of bed. He debates getting dressed then and there, but decides against it and rather remains in his pyjama pants. He does pull on his favorite Christmas jumper, even though it’s barely past Halloween, and a pair of fluffy, mismatched socks. “Do you want coffee?” he asks over his shoulder on his way out the room.

“Yes,” Dan replies, voice beginning to fade as Phil scuttles down the hallway. “You’re the best!”

“I know,” Phil agrees. When he passes through the living room, he says to the backside of Sophia’s head, “Good morning, love.”

“Morning!” she responds, not looking away from the television. Phil shuffles into the kitchen and begins making enough instant coffee for him and Dan to share, then preparing some hot chocolate for Sophia as well. It takes about 5 minutes to finish Dan’s and his coffee as well as Sophia’s cocoa, which is perfect timing as Dan meanders into the kitchen right as Phil is pulling the milk off the stove.

“Coffee,” Dan says airily. “You’re wonderful.” He presses a kiss to Phil’s cheek and Phil pushes his shoulder into Dan’s body lovingly. 

Phil hands Dan the to-go mug and pecks his lips. “Have a good day at work,” he says.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Dan answers and pulls away. As he hustles past Sophia, he plants a kiss on her temple and she blindly pats his cheek. “Love you,” he calls out, to either or both of them, while he opens the front door to leave.

“Love you too,” they say together. 

Phil laughs a little under his breath before picking up his and Sophia’s mug and bringing it to the couch where she sits. “Here,” he says awkwardly, sticking it out for her to grab. 

Her head darts up in surprise before she lights up with a beam. “Oh,” she says, smiling. “Thanks.”

“What are we watching?” he asks and sits beside her.

“It’s Shark Week right now,” she answers. 

“Don’t let Norman see!” Phil says, taking a glance at the betta fish as he swims around his tank. Norman doesn’t even pretend to notice him. “I don’t want to traumatize him,” he explains.

When she was younger, she would’ve erupted into giggles and joy. Now, at fifteen, Sophia rolls her eyes and smiles fondly like how Dan does when Phil’s made a stupid joke. “Let’s start something new. What do you want to watch?”

Phil hums thoughtfully, doing his best to organize his cinema/television brain into a cohesive list. She doesn’t like watching things with Dan if they have sex or nudity, because it always makes the two of them act insanely awkward, but Phil wonders if he’s included in that. So he offers up two choices: “I think we should do a Disney movie or Bo Burnham.”

“Bo Burnham?” she asks, laughing a little. “I didn’t know you knew him.”

“I didn’t know you did,” he says and takes a sip of his coffee.

Sophia hums understandingly, nodding as she lifts her brow. “Alright,” she replies. “I like  _ what _ .”

“Me too,” he says, plucking the remote off the coffee table and pulling up the stand up special on Netflix. Before he hits play, he turns to look at her with a furrowed brow. “Your dad’s okay with you watching this, right?”

“Um, yes,” she answers, smiling in amusement. “You’ve heard him talk, right? He swears. A lot.”

“Yes, but you’re  _ fifteen _ ,” Phil whines. 

Sophia laughs. “It’s fine,” she insists. “Besides, you’re - you know. You can make the decisions ‘round here too.”

Phil blinks at her and she blinks right back. After what could’ve been five seconds or a full minute, and with all the courage he can muster, he finally says, “You know-” he falters and sucks in a breath- “you know I love you, right?”

Sophia jolts a little in surprise. “Oh,” she says. “I love you too.”

“I’m not - I don’t want to be, like, a babysitter or something. I’m… permanent. For as long as you and your dad will have me.” She nods slowly, so he continues. “And you’re as much my daughter as you want to be. It’s alright if you don’t want that, but - you know. If you do. I do too.”

“Uh, alright,” she agrees. “Are you asking me to call you dad?”

Phil laughs. “I’m not asking you to call me anything,” he clarifies. “I’m saying I’m whatever you want me to be for you. If it’s P-Dog, that’s totally cool, and if it’s Dad, that’s also cool. Or both. Or even neither. Just Phil. I - you’re my kid. In whatever way you want to be.”

There’s a moment without any response from Sophia, and while it’s probably far briefer than Phil’s pause a minute ago, it feels twice as long. Just as Phil worries he said the wrong thing, Sophia’s curly head of hair throws itself into his face, strands getting caught on his hooked nose and open mouth and wide eyes, and he laughs a little, surprised and comfortable. Quietly, Sophia whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sophia Charlotte.”

* * *

> **three. mid december.**

It’s another Saturday morning where Sophia wakes up before either of her dads from another stupid nightmare. Sometimes, when she’s up before the sun rises, her skin itching to be awake and alive, she claims the living room television. Today, she just doesn’t want to be alone.

The problem is, she doesn’t know how she can manage that. Her dads sleep with their door closed, and rightfully so; she knows they bang and she’d like to avoid the reality of that at all costs, thank you very much. But she hates knocking on doors, it makes her so very anxious, and what if they think she’s acting like a little kid? She kind of is, sure, but she deserves it sometimes. It’s not like she’ll be going back to sleep anytime soon and she just wants to be held and loved and maybe babied a little bit.

She wants to go into their bedroom, but she’s afraid of being too much and too annoying and too stupid, especially for Phil, who didn’t even ask for this, so she blindly stumbles into the living room and begins her post-nightmare panic attack. She paces from one wall to the other, scratching at her arms in the way she always does when this happens, and heaves in and out with bone-rattling gulps of air. She can’t hear herself crying, but she knows it’s happening based on the distant feeling of wetness dripping down her cheeks.

“Sophia,” a voice gasps from behind her. She sucks in a sob and throws her hands up to her face to hide the tears and wipe them away at the same time.  _ I’ll be fine, _ she wants to say, but can’t quite manage:  _ I just need a minute. _ It’s only a half-truth anyways. “Sophia,” the voice says again, and she realizes it’s Phil as she spins to run towards him and goes crashing into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she cries, though she doesn’t know what for. It’s the only thing she can think to say.

“No,” Phil insists, stern and raw in a way she doesn’t recognize. He pulls her onto the couch so she’s halfway draped over one of his legs, and instead of her face against his chest, it’s buried in his shoulder. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

She can’t stop herself, so she just keeps crying until Phil’s t-shirt is soaked and the streaks on her cheeks have dried. At some point in her wailing, Dan joined them on the couch and the credits ended, so she comes back to Earth with the sensation of her father rubbing her back carefully and the sound of the water in their fish tank bubbling where Norman swims.

“Sophia,” Dan says when she’s finally ready. “What’s wrong, princess?”

She sniffles and decidedly does not pull away from Phil. His arms are so warm and her head is tucked so comfortably in the crook of his neck. If she weren’t still hyper aware of her own bad dream, she could probably fall asleep like this. Instead, she turns her face just enough so her voice isn’t muffled and she says, “I had a nightmare.”

“What was it about?” Phil asks. It’s so hard for her to articulate. She’s so tired.

“I don’t know,” she moans dreadfully. “It’s just… you guys were gone. You left. I didn’t know where you went.”

“Oh, my love,” Phil whispers. “We haven’t gone anywhere.”

“I know,” she insists and pulls away from Phil’s hug just enough to look at Dan, who appears terrified. (Sophia doesn’t cry all that often, something of which she’s aware. She bottles it up for moments like this. If it means anything, she’s as confused as her dads are.) “But what if… What if you leave?” she asks, looking back at Phil, voice trembling and lip quivering. Then, she drops her head to address them both and asks, “What if something happens to you?”

“Nothing is going to happen to us,” Dan says. “We’re safe, princess.”

“And we're not going anywhere,” Phil adds. “Ever.” He squeezes her arm like it’s a pinky promise.

“I know,” Sophia agrees quietly. In Phil’s arms, curled up and teary-eyed, she feels like a little kid again. In the comfort of her mind, she can admit to herself that she doesn’t want to grow up, but here, with her dads consoling her as best they can, she bites her tongue. She’d rather just let the room be light and warm and loving than worry about the future, or an alternate universe where her dad gave up on her or worse, where he never met the penguin guy from the zoo and raised Sophia all by himself, silently suffering in his loneliness. “I love you guys,” she whispers finally. “I just don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Oh, Sophia,” Phil coos. “It’s better not to worry about what could’ve been and instead be glad it wasn’t. You don’t have to worry about us being gone, alright?”

“There’s no axe murderers wandering around London,” Dan adds, like his filter has shut off again, and Sophia laughs wetly. “And we know where Phil works, so he can’t _ really _ get rid of us.”

“Dan,” Phil scolds. “Inappropriate.”

“Sophia and I cope with dark humor,” Dan says apologetically. “I’m sorry. No more jokes.”

Sophia tosses her head back to look at her father with a grin. “I love you and your dark humor,” she assures him, and he smiles right back at her. “I know how you can make it better,” she continues slyly.

Phil narrows his eyes at her and quirks a brow. “You want pancakes, don’t you?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says cheekily. “And I think we should have a movie day. Specifically, Twilight.”

Dan groans. “Why is it always Twilight?” he whines.

“Oh, you love those movies,” Phil scolds. “I just know you’ve got a thing for vampires.”

“Well, I’m with you after all, aren’t I?” Dan winks and drops a kiss to Phil’s cheek as he pulls himself up off the couch. Sophia gags. “Alright, Dad’s Bombtastic Blueberry Pancakes, coming right up.” 

“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, haven’t you?” Phil asks as Dan skips away, the rhetorical question laced with a twinkling smile as he drapes his arm around Sophia’s shoulder. She drops a giggle, but before she can respond, he says, “I actually have something to ask you.”

“Oh,” Sophia replies, curling up into his touch. “What’s wrong?” 

She can hear her heartbeat quickening again, that special anxiety that only comes around when someone ominously asks to talk about something. Before she can worry for too long, Phil clears his throat and looks to the ceiling. “I was wondering how you felt about your dad and I getting married,” he says. It’s quiet. Shy. Like he’s afraid of the answer.

“Oh,” Sophia says again. “That depends. Do I get to bring Sarai and Amy to the wedding?”

Phil darts his eye from the flickering light above them and onto Sophia, who is smiling as best and as reassuring as she can. “Sure,” he answers eventually, a smile spreading slowly over his face. “Do you want to see what I’m thinking for the ring? I want your opinion on it.”

Sophia pulls her knees under her and scoots in, clapping her hands as she goes. “Show me,” she whisper-screams. “Show me now!”

“Alright,” he agrees, smiling in the way he does whenever Sophia catches him staring at Dan. He digs his phone out from his back pocket and opens his private tabs on Safari where, lo and behold, a small black  [ ring ](https://www.jared.com/6mm-wedding-band-black-tungsten-carbide/p/V-253327605?syte_ref=discovery_button) sat atop a white background. “I thought he’d like something kind of simple, but I was thinking about adding an inscription.”

“What would it say?” she asks. Sophia barely notices her voice dropping to the same level as his, but it does, almost like they’re telling each other secrets at a sleepover. In a way, they are.

“ _ Let’s be penguins, they mate for life. _ Or something stupid. I’m not sure. I kind of wanted to mention penguins, since your love of them brought us together, but… yeah. I don’t know.”

Sophia hums. “Maybe just…  _ soulmate _ ?”

“ _ Soulmate _ ,” Phil repeats like he’s trying it on for size. “I like that.”

“He’ll love the ring,” she adds. “It’s a good width. And very elegant. I hate those big, complicated rings. Well, it doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Don’t say that,” Phil scolds. “Of course it matters what you think. You’re his favorite person in the world. And you’re mine.”

Sophia smiles and curls right back up to him, pushing his phone out of the way to wrap her arounds around him. Phil reciprocates with a quiet laugh, and they bask in the silence together for a long moment. Sophia doesn’t do well with silence, though, and she likes the sound of her own voice, so she says, for the very first time, “I love you, Dad.”

“Sophia Charlotte,” Phil replies, voice thick like he’s about to cry. If Sophia closes her eyes, she can see his lip trembling and eyebrows furrowing like it does when they watch a Disney movie. “I love you so much more than you could possibly imagine.”

When Dan comes into the room a few minutes later and sees them wrapped around each other, he doesn’t ask why their eyes are red, and Sophia doesn’t offer an answer. He looks at them knowingly, although she knows he hasn’t got a clue, and smiles when he tells them the pancakes are ready. Sophia convinces him to bring her a plate so she can set up the movies - which she has on DVD, of course, because she’s not interested in sitting through Amazon Prime’s poorly timed advertisements - and he puts too much syrup on them and not enough butter but she doesn’t even care. Everything is perfect.

And while they eat, Sophia catches her eyes drifting off, staring at the place where that black tungsten ring will soon sit on Dan’s left hand, and she just can’t help but grin.

* * *

> **three. christmas eve.**

Sophia and Phil are hiding something and Dan knows it.

They went shopping the other day together, which isn’t entirely unusual, especially during Christmas, but they came back with a few more bags than Dan had expected and they all went straight into Sophia’s room where they know he won’t go looking. Sneaky.

Dan’s always thought they were quite similar. They watch a lot of movies together, and they’re almost never apart when they’re both home. Phil is by no means a pushover, but Dan can be a little bit high-strung - it’s something he’s working on - so when she wants something, she usually goes to Phil. It’s actually kind of sweet, how close they’ve gotten, especially now that Dan convinced them to have the  _ talk _ while he was at work one morning.

But all that being said, they don’t usually keep secrets. Sophia has as many as any teenager does, but Dan’s worked very hard to make their home a safe space, so they aren’t so much secrets as they are things Sophia hasn’t told them  _ yet _ . Phil, on the other hand, is a pretty good liar who hates lying and will often be able to trick Dan but immediately feel guilty and cave to the truth - like he did on their first anniversary, when he had a great surprise planned which he immediately ruined because he hated lying to Dan. (Dan thinks it’s very sweet, even if he sometimes wishes Phil could  _ really _ catch him off guard.)

So Dan knows, from the moment they walk through the door and  _ don’t _ immediately show him everything they’ve bought, that something is up. They insist it’s because it’s for Christmas, but Dan thinks that’s bullshit - and he says as much.

“You always show me my gifts,” he whined. “You’re hiding something.”

“We’re hiding your presents, love,” Phil insisted, kissing Dan’s cheek firmly enough so he faltered a little. Phil, that sneaky bastard. “Sophia and I want curry tonight, please.” 

Dan huffed but obliged. He’s whipped.

* * *

Anyways, that was four days ago. Now, it’s Christmas Eve, and Dan and Sophia are working on making their traditional Christmas dinner, which is the Japanese cloud pancake recipe that they’ve been perfecting for over a decade. Phil always lets them have this time together, just like he does with their Saturday walks, and tonight’s not any different while he sits on the balcony and talks to Steve like the pigeon will respond.

“I love this,” Sophia admits quietly while she beats the egg whites. “I love spending Christmas with Mum too, of course, but sometimes I wish we could just stay in this moment forever.”

Dan knows. He feels that way too. “It sucks, doesn’t it?” Dan asks, whisking the egg yolks. “And I never miss you any less on Christmas day. Fifteen years, and I still miss you when you’re gone.”

Sophia smiles. “You love going up to Dad’s parents,” she teases. Dan loves it when she says Dad and she means Phil. He can’t help but smile too. “Is it nice?” she asks quietly.

Dan nods. “The nicest,” he insists. “Maybe we can talk to Mum about switching the days next year, if you want. We can go north together.”

“That would be nice,” she agrees. “I feel like I’ve only met them once, even.”

“I think a few Easters ago,” Dan says. “When Colin was sick, so we went to Phil’s instead.”

“His brother wasn’t there,” she points out. “Is he there on Christmas?”

Dan adds the dry ingredients to his portion of the batter. “Yeah,” he answers, stirring a little too quickly so the flour splatters on his apron. “He brings his wife, Cornelia. You’d really like them both.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Mum if we can visit Grannie and Grandad on Christmas Eve instead,” she offers.

“Good idea,” Dan says and kisses her forehead. “For now, let’s make sure we don’t fuck up the pancakes. It’s your time to shine, my dear.” She whoops as she pulls the two bowls of batter together and begins folding her eggs whites into Dan’s concoction.

It takes them about five minutes to cook the pancakes before they flip, and when they do, Sophia decides she wants to visit Phil and his pigeon friend. Dan lets her go because as much as he loves their time together, he loves her love of Phil even more. She convinces Phil to open the balcony door so Steve can eat with them, which Dan thinks is ridiculous but he’s used to it, after all these years. These are the best pancakes they’ve made so far, but Sophia says that every year.

“They taste like clouds,” she sighs happily. “Hey, I know what movie we should watch today.”

“If you say another Tim Allen movie, the answer is no,” Dan says without looking away from his phone where a silent corgi video plays.

“No Tim Allen.  _ Hotel for Dogs _ ,” she says. “It’s the best movie of all time.”

“She wants a dog,” Phil supplies.

“And a little sister!” Sophia adds as she moves to put her plate in the dishwasher. “Okay, I got the dishes, and Dad-” she points at Phil, and Dan watches him grin- “you’re on popcorn duty.”

“What’s my job?” Dan asks, a little offended he wasn’t given any.

“Go take a shower,” she answers. “I want you to look cute for my Instagram post later.”

“Ouch,” he says, but complies. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

He can hear them whispering as he walks away, but he lets them have their time. He’ll get it out of them later if he really wants to.

He takes his shower in a rush and ultimately ends up using Phil’s body wash, but fortunately catches himself before he uses the shitty 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner that Phil’s been buying since university. Phil wouldn’t mind either way - he’s got a thing about Dan smelling like him, some weird feral man shit - but Dan isn’t about to destroy his well maintained curls on _ Christmas _ of all days. He puts on his cutest pajamas - some checkered bottoms and a jumper he stole straight from Phil’s wardrobe - and a pair of fuzzy socks before making his way back down to the kitchen, all in all about a fifteen minute trek.

By the time he’s back down, Phil is pulling the popcorn off the stovetop and Sophia is sitting on the couch with the movie’s title screen posted on the television. “Does anyone want a drink?” he asks before he settles down.

“I’m already in the kitchen, Dan, I’ve got it,” Phil says. “You want ribena or tea?”

“Oh,” Dan says and sits besides Sophia so there’s enough room for Phil to choose who to sit next to. “Um, tea, please. Only if the water’s already boiling.”

“Anything for you, my love,” Phil says and Dan bites back a scoff.

Dan is brought a steaming mug, almost spilling over with boiling water, and a bowl of popcorn to share. Sophia and Phil have tea too, and Phil ends up sitting next to Dan who curls up into him without hesitation. He can feel Phil smiling into the kiss he presses against his lips, and Sophia boos them, but Dan doesn’t care.

When the movie is over and Phil’s tears have dried substantially - and the ones Dan was trying to hide are wiped away and vanished entirely - Sophia begs them to open presents in front of the tree rather than on the couch. “It’s cuter,” she insists, and honestly, Dan doesn’t think much of it.

He’s sitting nearest to the Christmas tree, which Sophia and Phil decorated on the first of December, and Phil is sat across from him. Sophia is placed strategically so the three of them are in a triangle formation, and they each start by opening one gift at a time. Dan’s is from Sophia, Sophia’s is from Phil, and Phil’s is from Dan. Sophia gets Dan some fancy candle which smells like heaven’s piss and it is  _ glorious _ . Sophia unwraps another charm for the bracelet Phil’s been building her for the last five years - this fifth charm is a miniature diamond ring, which sits alongside a penguin, a Golden Snitch, a cup of Starbucks coffee, and a blue fish in a fake plastic bag. Dan doesn’t know where these memories are from, but he’s okay with that. Phil gets a Buffy the Vampire Slayer t-shirt and a Jake from Adventure Time hoodie from Dan, and he holds both of them close to his chest with a smile.

Then, they switch. Sophia gets Phil a blobfish plushie to add to the collection of stuffed animals she’s gotten him for every occasion. Dan’s gift from Phil is a deep blue sand art for his bedroom, which he smiles at so wide his cheeks hurt. Dan gets Sophia some new things for her desk - a wire candle, pretty stationary, a couple things from the antique shop. He spoils her and he’s comfortable with that.

“There’s something else I got you, Dan,” Phil says suddenly.

Dan blinks at him. “Alright,” he says, trying to be calm in the face of anxiety. “Where?”

“Right behind you,” Phil answers, so Dan turns around to see a small, inconspicuous, unlabeled black box. He picks it up and looks back at Phil in confusion, who has scooted closer. Behind him, Sophia is standing with her phone out, and Dan is certain she’s filming.

“What’s going on?” Dan asks, because he hates surprises.

Phil laughs. “Open it,” he says quietly, so Dan obeys. It’s a ring. He almost drops it onto the ground completely, but Phil’s amazingly quick reflexes stop it from falling. “Daniel Howell,” he starts, shuffling from his spot on the ground onto one knee and Dan’s hands go flying from his lap to his face. “I have loved you since the day I met you. You gave me a daughter, a home, a family, a life. Without you, I would be some old creep who goes home alone for Christmas even though I’m almost forty. I wouldn’t be the man I am without you, and there is no one else for me. I have waited my entire life to find you and I want to spend the rest of it by your side.”

“Phil!” Dan squawks, wiping furiously at his eyes where tears are threatening to breach. “You - oh my God, I can’t believe you.”

“My knees are getting sore,” Phil says dumbly.

“You never asked me anything, you spoon,” Dan retorts, grinning.

Phil bites his tongue to hold back a laugh. “Daniel Howell,” he repeats. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Dan answers without a moment of hesitation. “A million times yes.”

Behind them, Sophia cheers, but Dan can barely hear her. He’s too busy pulling Phil in for a warm kiss that is fierce and strong and almighty. It's not hot or sexual or desperate; just powerfully in love. And completely appropriate to share in front of his daughter.

Correction.  _ Their _ daughter.

* * *

“There’s an inscription,” Phil says late that night, once Nia has picked Sophia up for Christmas and they’re laying ass-naked in their bed without any duvet. Dan's furnace of a human suit is all they have to keep them warm, and it's wonderful. “Take it off. Look on the inside.”

Dan huffs. “My body is tired,” he whines, but lifts his hands to peel off the black ring that somehow fits perfectly around his finger. He angles it just slightly and squints to read the tiny cursive on the velvet innards of the ring.

_ Soulmate _ .

He inhales quickly through his nose and he begs his eyes not to cry as he slides the ring back onto his finger. “ _Soulmate_ ,” Dan whispers. “Actual companions through life,” he continues, turning on his side and laying the ringed hand atop of Phil’s bare chest. Phil puts his hand over it and squeezes. “I love you, bub," Dan says with a sigh.

“I love you too,” Phil replies and kisses Dan, lips upturned and glittery like there’s a promise in his skin. “Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took me all of one day to write the final section of this chapter so if it sucks, No It Doesnt <3
> 
> the ring is linked, but if it didn't work, take this one too:  
> https://www.jared.com/6mm-wedding-band-black-tungsten-carbide/p/V-253327605?syte_ref=discovery_button
> 
> (ps: gifts are inspired by real ones they've gotten for each other!)

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked it leave a comment, those always make me smile! 
> 
> tumblr: strawberryphil.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @STRAWBERRYPHLL


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